Donors

by C. M. Sutter

  “Sir?”

  Sam turned in the chair.

  “You aren’t going to get online unless you pay in advance.”

  “Oh, sure. How much is it”—he looked at her name tag—“Jean, and who do I pay?”

  “It’s three dollars for every hour of use, and you pay me at the counter over there.” She pointed directly behind her.

  Sam stood and walked with her to the counter. He fished three singles out of his wallet and slid them across the laminate surface.

  Jean smiled as she accepted the money and printed a receipt. “You don’t look familiar. First time here?”

  “Yeah, I have midterms. Have to study, you know.”

  “Really, what are you going to school for?”

  “Phlebotomy, the study of blood. Going into the medical field.”

  She handed him the receipt. “That sounds exciting. You’re in booth three. If you need more time, let me know in advance so the computer doesn’t shut you down before you’re ready. Good luck.”

  Sam took the receipt, tucked it in his wallet, and walked away. He muttered under his breath, “I’ll need all the luck I can get.”

  He repositioned himself at the computer in booth three. There was barely enough room to scoot in and still have elbow space. With all of the empty areas between computers, he was surprised they hadn’t thought of removing some of the dividers. He huffed his discomfort and pulled the slip of paper out of his front pants pocket.

  Sam typed in the search bar the first URL he had written down before he left the house. Vampireravesonline popped up on the screen, with dozens of related sites listed down the page. That particular URL directed him to all the vampire raves and clans throughout the United States. He needed to narrow it down to Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan. With Adeline so ill, Sam couldn’t leave the house for any length of time. Five hours was about as long as he felt comfortable being gone. He scanned the site but didn’t find a local chapter of the group. The nearest Indiana location was on the southern edge of Indianapolis, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Gary. That wouldn’t work.

  “What’s this?” he whispered as he narrowed the search even more by typing blood cults near Gary Indiana into the search bar. Up popped a local site consisting of witch and warlock groups within a fifty-mile radius of Gary.

  I know they use blood for their rituals, but they probably just snatch and kill people’s pets.

  Sam clicked on the link that took him to the web page. Locations popped up on a map, and the calendar of upcoming events was posted as well. Sam browsed the locations and found a chapter called Spiritual Awakenings only fifteen minutes east of his home. He clicked on the link, which directed him to their home page. There, he found information about the coven, its members and activities, and a “Contact us” page.

  Bingo. This is just what I need, but I wonder how long it’ll take for somebody to respond?

  There was no other way to contact this group, and Sam didn’t want to have a face-to-face yet, anyway. He’d ask a few generic questions through the contact form and see what response he got.

  He began typing, made up a fake name, and asked about the group and whether they really considered themselves witches and warlocks or were nothing more than people dressing the part. He said he had recently moved to the area from the west coast. He claimed he had been involved with a well-known group in LA and enjoyed participating in blood sacrifices.

  That ought to get their attention. They may be pissed off enough to respond quickly.

  He kept the tab open and went back to search for vampire sites. If anyone used human blood for their rituals, it would be them. If they were actually drinking it, they would probably pay more for the blood.

  Chapter 41

  Sullivan returned to our side. “What have we got?”

  I growled, “We have Molly Davis, that’s what. Captain—”

  Sullivan interrupted my rant as he ground his fist into his eyes. “Son of a bitch. Give me a second.”

  We watched as he paced, perhaps to blow off steam. He returned seconds later. “Okay, I talked to Putnam back at the station a few minutes ago. Alex is in a holding cell, and he gave us the names of all his cohorts and where to find them. Let’s just say he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t going to come out good on his end if he didn’t cooperate. I told Putnam to let him know in no uncertain terms that I’d make sure he got that yearlong incarceration otherwise. His groupies are being rounded up and hauled in as we speak. Every one of those sons of bitches will be interrogated separately and in depth, especially anyone with blond hair.”

  “Then what’s the point of gauging their interest in buying blood on the websites? If one of his own guys is committing the crimes, that information will be of no use,” I said.

  “But if the killer isn’t one of his people, that interest in buying blood is still out there as a lure. Charlie told Putnam all of the sites are live and linked back to the station.”

  Jane interrupted. “Guys, I’m going to have forensics take a few more pictures while she’s still here. I did an initial exam, and her condition is just like the others. Maybe I should say closer to Heather’s simply because she hasn’t been dead and out in the elements for an extended period of time like Corrine and Taylor were. Either way, the signs are identical. Enough blood was drained from her carotid and femoral arteries to stop her heart from beating. Any loss beyond 2.24 liters is nearly guaranteed death. I’m sure the killer took everything he could until her heart stopped pumping.”

  “Anything that was atypical?” J.T. asked.

  “Actually, yes, take a look.”

  We knelt next to Molly’s side and watched as Jane pushed back Molly’s jacket sleeves. Jane shined the flashlight on both of Molly’s arms and pointed. “See the puncture wounds and bruises along her inner elbow veins? Both arms look about the same, plus she has pinch marks six inches higher, right there and there, likely from the tourniquet that’s tightened on the arm before blood draws. Her shins show signs of restraints too. Once I get her jacket off, I’ll be able to see if there are more marks from restraints across her chest area. How long had she been missing?”

  “Since Monday,” I said.

  “That means the killer took a number of blood draws before he decided to finish her off. This isn’t killing for killing’s sake, it’s all about the blood.”

  J.T. nodded. “Same conclusion we came to a few days back.”

  “If there’s nothing else, Tom and I will get her loaded up and take her back with us. I need to know how cold her body actually is before I do anything with her. She may be slightly frozen or completely frozen. Everything depends on how long she’s been outside. I should have definitive information for you later today.”

  Sullivan thanked Jane and Tom. We watched as they carried Molly away, zipped in the body bag and strapped to the backboard.

  “What’s going on in your head, Jade? I can almost hear the wheels spinning.”

  I looked at Sullivan in surprise. “You’re getting more and more like J.T. every day we’re around you. How come everybody knows when something is bouncing around in my brain?”

  “Might be that curled lip and twisted eyebrow thing you do when something is weighing on your mind,” J.T. said. He gave me a wink when I reached up and touched my eyebrow.

  He got a smirk in return. “Okay, here’s what I was thinking. What if—and it’s only my initial thoughts—but what if Alex and his group actually put Molly in the building Tuesday night when they were at Dasher Point? Maybe they had already killed her and were performing their ritual with some of her blood. We didn’t compare the human blood to anyone’s DNA. We only had it tested to see if it was indeed human. Do you think some of it could have been hers?”

  “Shit, you have a good point, Jade. I’ll see if the lab can run a test against Molly’s DNA sample we have on file. That group could have gotten there long before us. Hell, just because their ritual began at eleven o’clock doesn’t mean they didn’t ar
rive earlier and hide her inside the building. How many people were there that night?”

  J.T. answered. “Twenty-six including Alex.”

  “Okay, let’s get back to the station. We’re going to have our hands full doing interviews with only three interrogation rooms to work in.”

  “If I could add my two cents, sir?”

  “Sure. You haven’t been shy before. Why start now?” Sullivan smiled. “Go ahead. I’m just giving you shit.”

  “I know, and I appreciate your candor, Captain. Let’s begin the interviews with blond men that fit with the parameters our witnesses gave us. They’d be medium height and weight, and their age would likely be under thirty. It might make things go faster, especially if somebody actually lets their conscience get the best of them and fesses up.”

  “That’ll work. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 42

  Sam’s phone vibrated on the tabletop of the empty cubicle next to him. Nobody ever called him except Adeline. Something had to be wrong. Sam reached around the corner and grabbed the phone. It was his mother. He was thankful the phone was voice activated. All his mother had to do was tell it to call Sam and it autodialed his number. He picked up and tried to speak in a low voice even though his anxiety level had just gone through the roof. “Mom, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t think so, honey. I got out of bed to use the bathroom, and the entire room began to spin. I fell to the floor, and I think I’m too weak to stand up.”

  “Stay put, Mom. Don’t even try to stand. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. You aren’t short of breath or feeling chest pains, are you?”

  “No, but everything is blurry and spinning.”

  Sam grabbed his coat and deleted the sites he had visited. He powered down the computer and rushed out the door. “I’m leaving now, Mom. Just don’t move.”

  Inside the van, Sam checked his side mirrors and squealed out of the parking space. He’d get home, help his mom back into bed, and give her a transfusion. Both girls were going to give another donation that day, whether they liked it or not.

  Chapter 43

  “What are we going to hold the people on?” I asked as we hurried back to our cars.

  Sullivan dug the cruiser’s car keys out of his pocket. “I told the officers rounding them up to charge all of them with aggravated trespassing and starting an illegal bonfire on private property. It’s just petty bullshit charges. I doubt if any of them know the difference between something we can actually hold them on or not.”

  “Sounds good to me. We’ll see you back at the station,” I said.

  J.T. climbed in behind the wheel. I sat shotgun and clicked the seat belt over me.

  My phone vibrated just as J.T. turned onto the road. I dipped my hand in my coat pocket, pulled the phone out and glanced to my left. “Spelling is calling.” I clicked Talk. “Hey, boss. We’re driving right now, so I’m putting you on speakerphone. What’s up?”

  “Just wondering how the investigation is going. I had to send Moore and Delgado to Grand Rapids on a case. We’re spreading ourselves pretty thin here. Cam and I are the only agents left at the office. Until you four get back, we may have to call in help from the downtown headquarters if needed.”

  J.T. groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I bet Val hated leaving her boy.”

  “Yeah, but sometimes duty calls us out of town whether we like it or not.”

  “Understood.”

  “So, what’s the latest?”

  “Unfortunately, another body was just discovered. Molly Davis, the young lady who went missing on Monday while out for a jog, was found this morning by a man walking his dog. It was purely coincidental. I doubt she would have ever been located otherwise.”

  Spelling cleared his throat. “So you have a positive ID?”

  “Not yet, but from her appearance and the clothing she wore, yes. We’ll let you know as soon as it’s confirmed with the DNA profile we’ve collected for her.”

  I heard the disappointment in Spelling’s voice. “So, you’re no closer to finding the perp?”

  “We’re hauling in the entire group of so-called vampires that hang out with Alex Everly. Molly’s body was found at Dasher Point, the very place Alex and his clan held a blood-drinking ritual two nights ago. That abandoned steel mill is so off the beaten path, it’s too much of a stretch to think her being found there was a coincidence.”

  “That’s where the man and his dog found her?”

  “Absolutely, and that sounds fishy at best.”

  “Okay, keep me posted on the outcome of the interviews.”

  “Will do. Goodbye, sir.” I clicked off and dropped my phone back into my coat pocket.

  J.T. turned in to the station’s parking garage twenty minutes later, right behind Captain Sullivan. He pulled into one of the few visitors’ spaces and parked. We were five cars beyond the reserved spot that had a tin plaque with the captain’s name on it bolted to the wall.

  After he climbed out of his cruiser and slammed the door behind him, Sullivan waited for us to catch up. “I talked to Putnam as I drove. He’s staring at eleven of the remaining twenty-five people that patrol rounded up. They’re downstairs in a holding cell, waiting to be questioned.”

  J.T. frowned. “What about the female followers?”

  Sullivan pulled off his gloves and pocketed them. He raked his scalp. “Everyone is getting talked to. Even if they didn’t take part in a crime, they may still have valuable information they’d be willing to share for a pass from us. Let’s not assume they’re innocent just because they’re female. Somebody like Alex could have anyone do his bidding.” Sullivan held the glass door open, and we crossed into the police department lobby. He jerked his chin toward the hallway that led to the bull pen and his office. “Let’s head into my office. I’ll call downstairs and have Putnam get us a count on the blonds in custody. We’ll begin with them and go from there. We have to plan these questioning sessions too. At this point, none of the people we’re holding actually know why they’re here.”

  As we passed through the bull pen, we made a pit stop at the coffee station along the back wall of the room. Each of us needed a cup of the hot brew before we started the interviews. I poured creamer into mine and J.T.’s and gave them a quick stir. Sullivan drank his black.

  A few minutes after we got settled in, a knock sounded on Sullivan’s door. Officer Putnam peeked around the glass wall. Sullivan waved him through.

  “I have an update.” He tipped his head at each of us.

  Sullivan pointed at a guest chair under a window overlooking the city. “Take a seat, Bruce. What have you got?”

  “Well, sir, first off, the lab is comparing Molly Davis’s DNA sample to the residue left in those bottles. They should have the results in a few hours.”

  “Good, and what else?”

  “And out of the eleven people being held downstairs, five have various shades of blond hair, but two of those five are women.”

  “I don’t care if they’re monkeys. Everyone is getting interviewed. We’ll take turns with them in the three boxes, and the blonds will obviously go first. As long as they have no idea why they’re here, they can’t make up a story that they’ll all stick to. After each interview we’ll separate the ones that have been questioned from the ones that haven’t. That way no one gets a heads-up.”

  I crossed my right knee over my left leg and rearranged myself in the chair. “So we should keep the questions the same for all of them. If somebody expounds on their answers, it’ll all be recorded and on video, anyway.”

  “That’s correct, and we’ll keep the questions simple. Ask when they arrived at Dasher Point Tuesday night. I want a minute-by-minute playback of the entire night up to the point where we stepped in and took over. We’re only gathering information right now to see if everyone’s account matches up. Any person that deviates from their rendition of that night’s activities will be kept aside and talked to again. The second time around we’ll press t
hem a little harder.” Sullivan gave me an odd look. “I’m not trying to be sexist, but since you’re the only woman here, would you mind pointing out to us brain-dead men which people are the blonds? I don’t know the difference between dark blond and light brown.”

  I grinned. “Sure, and I don’t take offense at your question.” I turned toward Putnam. “What I want to know is who told you there were five blonds?”

  “Myra in lockup picked them out for me.”

  At least we got one good chuckle before it was time to get down to business. We rose and headed back to the elevators with our notepads ready.

  Chapter 44

  The van jumped the curb when Sam overshot the driveway. The vehicle had barely come to a stop when he slammed into Park and opened the door. He ran up the sidewalk of the tired looking Cape Cod and turned the key in the knob. “Mom, Mom.”

  Sam ripped off his jacket. He tossed the keys on the coffee table and ran down the hall. Lying on the floor alongside her bed, Adeline was nearly unconscious. He checked her pulse—slow but constant.

  “I’ll be right back.” Sam raced to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. He grabbed a single-serving box of orange juice, punched the straw through the hole, and ran back to the bedroom. With the juice box on the floor next to him, Sam carefully lifted his mom to a sitting position. “Mom, can you hear me?” He put his ear close to her face.

  A barely coherent voice, almost a whisper, responded, “Sam, is that you?”

  “It’s me. Try to drink this orange juice. You need more sugar in your system. Here, I’ll help you hold it.” Sam noticed how weak his mother looked. Her hand shook as she held the juice box. Her skin appeared grayish and bruised from all the transfusions. Her veins were flat and nearly invisible. “You aren’t getting enough liquids.”